


moon river, you heartbreaker

by firstaidkit



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Domestic, Fix-It of Sorts, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Unrequited, side naruhina - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24568114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstaidkit/pseuds/firstaidkit
Summary: "will you be happy?" / "i will lack you."(or: sasuke dreams and bleeds, and there's a room where they say the things they should have said long ago.)
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 26
Kudos: 93
Collections: Fics where the writing is chef's kiss





	moon river, you heartbreaker

**Author's Note:**

> hi, hello. so, um. this is my first sns in a bit. apologies.
> 
> playlist :  
> my love, my life - abba  
> size too small - sufjan stevens  
> first love / late spring - mitski  
> dark side of the gym - the national  
> my boy - car seat headrest  
> strawberry blonde - mitski  
> moon river - frank ocean  
> old friend - mitski  
> self-control - frank ocean

_"i've seen it on your face,_

_tells me more than any worn-out old phrase._

_so now we'll go separate ways._

_never again we two._

_never again, nothing i can do._

_you are still my love and my life,_

_still my one and only."_

_— abba (my love, my life)_

_"i still know you._

_and i still like you, the best man._

_and i still owe you."_

_— sufjan stevens (size too small)_

* * *

it's a strange thing, sasuke had learned, to live without oneself. the years he spent away from konoha did not feel like living away from his home. but living away from naruto, that was different, a kind of simmering ache that had been there long before he'd left naruto sleeping in the rain, knelt over him as if he were praying.

but it hasn't been what it was before. before where he could watch naruto's agitated silhouette, hear the rasp of his voice, lean against his side and find him so overwhelmingly warm. somehow end up in front of his window at night, watch him sleep in the moonlight for a moment, wonder if he slept better with their chakras near.

when they were twelve and already held each other's lives in their hands, already felt the swell of each other when they were close.

it is a strange thing, what is nestled inside his chest. sasuke has always known it for what it was. and it is different from whatever it is for naruto, he knows.

_friend_ , he remembers repeating, head dizzy and body bleeding out. _what exactly does that mean to you_.

he did not say, _because i know it is not the same as what it means for me_.

he thinks of naruto saying his promises, hearing him beg, feel him praying while they are nations apart. knows how they only touch hands while they're trying to make each other bleed, for a moment saying things they do not say aloud, feels the thrum of each other's pulse and let the void embrace them. he remembers naruto saying, while they stood on water, sasuke's eyes failing him and making naruto into something divided and blurry: _i'll bear the burden of your hate and die by your side._

and maybe then, or even now as he recalls it, maybe that was close. sasuke had wanted to ask, still does wants to ask, _what does that mean to you, do you feel the burden of your own words, can you bear what it is you're doing to me, would you die with me if i die from desire._

_if our hands touched again in fury, would you understand then what it is i feel for you?_

and everything around him feels cold, gathering dust, like the surfaces within his home. he does not clean them, every day telling himself there's no point, he's leaving soon, he can't stay. remembers the first time he'd told that to naruto, over soju, sometime in the a.m. he had watched the smile slip off his lips, his eyes dim, his voice coming out in that broken way that feels like sasuke's ribs may be breaking. he knows how that feels, having his insides torn apart, fragmented and splintered, having to have his flesh wrapped with bandages.

and it felt like that when naruto had said, "don't say that. not right now."

"then when?"

naruto had wiped the alcohol off his lips and sasuke watched them turn pink again. 

"not right now."

and sasuke had known what the conversation would turn into: half-truths and naruto saying _i know, i know why you can't stay, i want you to stay, it's selfish_ —

but selfishness is not something naruto knows, sasuke thinks. he is the one and only reason sasuke stays, and for that sasuke is the selfish one. and it's the way naruto says his name, drowning in familiarity and care, the way his hands always look like they're waiting to touch, the way he must want to hold sasuke. he never has before, not conscious at least. sasuke has phantom touches, when he was young and dying in naruto's arms on that bridge, punctured all over by metal and the way naruto's tears kissed his skin.

he wonders if he'd shatter if naruto held him. everything so uneased inside him. one careful touch from the other might break him, until he reflects what he is on the inside.

and he watches naruto now, his frame all soft from sleep, skin just barely touched by the sunlight that peeks through his curtains. and sasuke had said, he'd told him, _you can open them, i don't mind_ . and naruto had just shook his head slowly, rubbed sleep from his eyes, his shirt riding up when he stretched, _you're the guest, you don't like bright light, sun bright light_ , then nodded in a matter of fact way. 

but sasuke still sees it soak itself into naruto and thinks, _i do like it, you're mistaken_.

"you didn't have to let me stay," sasuke says, sipping the tea naruto's made for him, his legs pulled against his chest.

"it's no problem." and sasuke knows he means it, though the cut of glee in his voice sounds forced, and sasuke wants to ask but doesn't want to pry, hopes eventually naruto will unravel himself before him.

_you can tell me_ , he wants to say, _is it because of me you couldn't sleep?_

because they had slept in the same bed, and sasuke could feel naruto's eyes on his back the whole night, like light ghost contact, cold and untouched.

and it wasn't the first time sasuke has shown up crouched in naruto's window, bloody and raw, refusing to go to the hospital when naruto tells him to. doesn't even know why he comes here, because naruto is shit at bandaging sometimes, his hands all trembly when they touch sasuke's skin.

but it wasn't even a mission this time. it was a dream and sasuke's own hand cutting into himself, the mirage of terrors making him self-destructive.

  
  


( _you should have seen sakura-chan_ , naruto had said, his voice strange and quiet, face close to sasuke's as he wrapped his middle.

_she's busy_ , sasuke whispered back. which was a half-truth. she is busy, but she is also terrified for him, and he knows what she would say if he told her that he has dreams where he's being ripped and torn apart and he wakes to find his own hands bloody.

_and i'm not?_ naruto replied, looking up at him and he was so close then, in ways they had only been when they were fighting, hands fisting in each other's clothes, sharing breaths.

_are you?_ sasuke couldn't help it, stared at the way naruto's mouth parts, the way the scars cut across his cheeks, how his hair falls over his forehead, the way his fingers are still warm and careful over his stomach. 

_i'm not_ , naruto said it back without hesitation, then seemed to regret it, shaking his head and tying off the bandage, tight and unforgiving — fitting.)

  
  


"you know i can feel it. when you have nightmares."

sasuke stares at him as he walks towards where he's sitting, tray of food in his hands. he sits across from sasuke and sets the tray down on the table settling back with his legs crossed, his hands on his knees. their eyes meet and sasuke wants to ask so much, wants to understand, doesn't know how to say it. wants to just say, _can i hold your hand and maybe understand what it is you mean by all this, feel your love-lines against mine and finally see what i mean to you?_

"i get all… cold and it feels like something—"

"—is missing?" because sasuke knows how that feels, to wake and cling to the sheets and think there might be something else there, some source of warmth and comfort that never comes.

"yes." naruto nods, biting his lip and letting it slip free. "like that."

"i'm sorry," sasuke says, because he doesn't know what else to tell him. _sorry i keep ending up here, bleeding all over your hands and your floors, sorry i sleep better with your body beside mine, sorry you sleep worse, sorry i can't stand the way my home lacks you, sorry about this and the way i remember how you taste, of warmth and miso._

"for what?" naruto almost looks angry, before it fades, his eyes softening. he wets his lips, looks down at the food before moving and grabbing a pair of chopsticks, metal clinging. "you have nothing to be sorry for. never have."

"that's untrue," sasuke huffs, lips curling but the cavern in his chest widening. too many things he needs to apologize for, his hands all red and guilty. 

"not to me." naruto pauses over his rice, sets it in his lap. his eyes hurt sasuke sometimes; it feels like he's been cut open when they look at each other, like naruto sees all inside him and doesn't know what to do with it, sasuke a mess of unraveled string in his hands.

"not to me, sasuke."

and he doesn't know if he's trying to say something else, but it feels that way, like he's hiding something in the way the syllables form and fall off his tongue, waiting for sasuke to figure it out.

the tea burns his hands. he doesn't move.

"eat. please?" naruto says, gesturing with his chopsticks, then takes a bite of rice, setting it down to sip on the miso. "i think i've gotten pretty good at cooking, actually. you're the first."

he winks, and sasuke's mouth feels dry, but he shifts and sets the tea down, picks up his own rice. chopsticks even feel heavy in his hands, all his limbs weighed down by exhaustion and longing and the ways naruto's voice and care settles so warmly and thick in his bones.

"first of what?" sasuke asks, taking a bite of the rice. he looks down over the platter, and his jaw pauses when his eyes settle over the thin slices of tomato, so stark and bright against the rest of the food. they glare, like naruto's eyes when he looks back up.

"you're the first i've cooked for," naruto replies, laughing a light and embarrassed sound that makes sasuke feel so warm all over. "i want it to be good."

sasuke feels his own eyes sting, hates the way that's so often these days, curling on himself at night, moonlight making him feel so cold, all the stars twinkling, close to burning out.

"is it?"

"is it what?" and he's whispering, can't seem to make his voice any louder.

naruto laughs, more easily now. sasuke sees the ocean and the sun and flowers in it, a meal made with care, sheets that are warm, the way miso tastes or naruto's blood in his mouth, how he smells of salt water, their bodies aching and beating against each other.

hears himself saying, _it wasn't meaningless._

"is the food okay?" naruto asks, a bite of fish in his mouth. and sasuke wants to say, _i am glad you're eating well, i remember wanting that for so long, seeing you when you were young and skinny and wanting to feed you everything until you were glowing. i offered you my bento box, my food, though i was told not to. and gods, the face you made_ —

"yes," sasuke says, shoves more in his mouth to keep down the words he wants to say, all of them jagged and violent in his throat.

and naruto's smile is so wide, the tips of his ears and the softness of his cheeks a faint pink color. sasuke would say he's staring because he wants to memorize it, but the truth is that he already knows it too well, just wants to see more and more of it, until he gets sick off of the image of naruto blushing and pretty.

it doesn't fade the entire time they eat, and even when it's near noon and naruto is called to the hokage's office and sasuke stays until his home feels suffocating.

naruto saying, _you can stay for however long you want_ , and not saying, _i know you hate your own home_. sasuke nodding, leaning against the wall, and naruto lingering on the threshold, their bodies far apart, his own feeling lacking.

and when it's empty sasuke realizes it only felt safe with naruto there. 

  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  
  


"naruto?" sasuke stands in his own doorway, naruto something glowing in the dimness of the room.

he's standing with two boxes in his hands and sasuke can smell miso, wondering if it's that or just the way he wants to taste naruto so terribly.

"have you eaten?"

  
  


they end up outside, under trees and fireflies, and naruto's hair is a bit damp from where he must have showered before. sasuke wants to touch and touch, has to hold his own wrist to keep himself under control. because naruto may let him touch him, for he is different from when he was twelve. he may look at sasuke in that way that causes caverns, sasuke's surface something dusty and gray.

he may say his name in that quiet broken way that feels like a plea, like a prayer and a song; say his name in the way only he can say it.

"food still okay?" naruto sighs, leaning until his back hits the grass. sasuke hums in reply, puts their empty dishes aside and grabbing the soju. he and naruto pass it back and forth, the rim of it warm from their mouths, an almost something.

and naruto's got this pretty flush to his cheeks, his eyelids heavy and lashes long. his lips bloom red when his teeth sink in. 

they catch each other's eyes and stay there, moonlight drowning them, naruto's features lit up and dim again when fireflies pass.

and sasuke wonders if naruto is thinking, _won't you stay, just for a little while longer._ it's a selfish thing to want naruto's desire.

"come here?" naruto's hand reaches out, then falls back into the grass, his bandaged fingers flexing. his voice softens. "sasuke, come here?"

sasuke's mouth twitches. "i am here, naruto." he shifts his leg, his knee an inch away from where naruto's hand lies.

_you don't know what your careful touch will do to me_ , he thinks.

"far away," naruto slurs, laughs at himself and rolls over, his back to sasuke. and sasuke watches him move, his feet rubbing against each other, head nuzzling into the grass.

"i've been farther, haven't i?"

naruto doesn't reply, his form rising and falling softly. sasuke watches the movement, before lying down himself, curling up beside him, still a ways apart. but no matter how much space is put between them, it still feels unsafe. even in another land, sasuke had still ached.

sasuke stares at the curve of naruto's back, knowing that he's familiar with the way his flesh feels beneath his hands. he clenches his own fist, lets his nails dig into his skin, the lack of naruto's warmth making him something terrible.

he drifts, every part of him feeling heavy, until he's head empties and his fists loosen, the image of naruto turned from him the last thing he sees before his dreams come—

  
  


(and it's the same as always: two fingers pressed to his forehead, and blood, in his mouth or in another's, naruto under him and his face a mess of colors like pressed flowers, all watercolor skin. and sasuke's knuckles ache and ache and they're split open like naruto's lips and all he wants to do is taste him and for that he should die with him, die together like they were meant to. their souls weren't meant to live for so long. he watches naruto sometimes in the daytime and thinks of asking, _haven't we overstayed our welcome, my darling? shouldn't we give it a rest? we are not so free from our burdens just yet._

he sees his dream-self connecting with naruto in bloody mirages, in other ways, too. ways he cannot speak aloud. he sees himself pulling a knife from under his clothes, sees himself holding it steadily over the pretty curve of naruto's neck while his adam's apple trembles, and he's not even pleading for sasuke not to do it, but begging for him to do the opposite, his hands firm on sasuke's waist. and sasuke lets his hips shift and it sets his skin on fire, everything in him telling him to drive the knife down, everything in him telling him to keep moving, swallow down naruto's love-sounds and the violent thrum of his pulse—)

  
  


"—sasuke."

there's a hand around his wrist, blades of grass sharp against his cheek, and naruto much closer than before. his blue eyes drain all the sleep from sasuke in a single moment, and he's aware of the way naruto's thumb digs into his wrist.

his knife falls from his hand and into the grass and sasuke watches naruto toss it to the side, away from the two of them. their bodies are much closer now and sasuke can only think, _this is unsafe, unsafe, your closeness is killing me_.

"was i going to hurt you?"

naruto huffs, his lips curling bitterly, fingers loosening around sasuke's wrist, but not letting go.

"you had it at your own throat," he says, blinks a little harshly. the words sounds heavy, like they do before he's about to sob, syllables swelling in his throat before breaking free.

and sasuke does not apologize, because he knows it is not his apology naruto wants. if he knows anything, it is that, and that alone.

naruto's thumb traces sasuke's tendons, the soft swell of his flesh. their fingers align, palms meeting, then intertwine. sasuke's breath hitches, all his insides a mess, the sickening flutter inside his ribcage or the tug of his gut.

"talk to me, sasuke," naruto whispers, and he seems unlike himself, looking so old in the dim light. his lips press into a thin line, and sasuke can see the way he gnaws at the inside of his mouth, a habit he's had since he was a kid, something that hasn't faded away over time. something sasuke attributes to his natural form, like the soft way his hair falls or how his eyes dance blue over everything they touch.

"i can't—"

"why not?" naruto's brows knit together, then soften again. he wets his lips, looks at where their skin meets. "you can. i want you to."

and sasuke thinks of telling him, _if i do that, you can't do this. you can't touch me like i'll break. you can't touch me at all. can't you move your eyes somewhere other than on mine? don't you know what they do to me, have done to me since we were young and starved for love?_

"you have to talk to me before you leave," naruto continues, his breaths heavy things, warm on sasuke's skin, where their fingers intertwine, like a kiss without touching. "don't want you to leave."

"naruto. we've talked about this," sasuke says, his hand going rigid before loosening again under naruto's touch. "i can't—"

"stay," he finishes for him, voice something sharp and jagged. sasuke can feel it just under his ribs. "can't stay or talk. i want both, you understand?"

"don't you think i may be tired of doing what you ask of me?" 

naruto huffs, pushes his temple into the grass, then turns over onto his back, his hand still holding sasuke's.

"no," he says, steadily. "i don't, not really."

" _fucking_ —" sasuke shoves at naruto, hears his laugh in arpeggios, little lights surrounding them in droplets. their bodies move and shift and their punches are half-hearted and near-loving, their hands something telling and fists open and their fingers intertwine again, their arms they were born with and their arms anew, sasuke pinning naruto to the ground with his waist.

naruto heaves under him, mouth still curled, eyes hazy. and sasuke is smiling, too, something that used to feel so foreign becoming something known around naruto. it's still a secret, he thinks, just passed between them. only his.

sasuke presses their hands into the ground, naruto's arms above his head. and sasuke's mind is something loose and wild, keeps thinking, _you look like your mother and your father, too, i know where you got that scar, and the ones over your torso and your back. i'm responsible for some, am i not? i know each of your birthmarks, too, the little freckled stars all over you._

and there's no knife in his hands like in his dreams, but it feels messier, bloodier. it feels wrong if they're not ruining each other.

"sasuke." it's a tarnished kind of sob, and sasuke shifts his hips, lets up only a small amount. naruto's hands fly to his waist and dig in, leaving sasuke's still beside his head. and he wants to ask, _you know what comes next? you know what we do in dreams?_

"am i hurting you?" he asks instead, voice a small sound passed between them.

"not like this," naruto answers and, _there it is_ , sasuke thinks. _there's the blood, there's the war, there's the things that are safe, where we are bound to exist._

"not like this?" sasuke repeats, all dangerous sounds in his mouth, like daggers, wonders if they're hitting vital points. and naruto just shakes his head, his brows twisted upwards and his lashes trembling.

"no," his fingers hurt now, will leave bruises in sasuke's hips. and that's good, sasuke thinks, naruto staining his skin. "not like this."

"how do i hurt you?"

naruto shakes his head, shuts his eyes real tight, sliver of blue gone. sasuke almost wants them to stay closed. safer like that. but then he would miss the dangerous tide of them, the way they're an abnormal blue, like the color of blue raspberry candy, all sweet and tooth-rotting. and sasuke has never liked sweet things, but likes the way naruto's gaze feels on his skin.

"that's not—" he sighs, grip softening until he's simply holding sasuke's waist.

— _just don't leave_.

he can hear it in his head, naruto's rasp, a desperate sound. but naruto does not say it, stays silent for once in his life. sasuke imagines himself replying _i have to, come with me, come nowhere near me, i can't breathe without you, can't breathe with you. a part of me always feels like it's missing._

sasuke pulls his hands off, moves away. he hears naruto sitting up behind him, but doesn't look, figures he's had enough of naruto's empty loving eyes.

_it wasn't meaningless_ , he hears his younger self telling naruto. and it wasn't, isn't.

he thanks him for the food, takes their dishes, and finds himself back in his own home, surrounded by the cold and the dust and the dark once again.

  
  
  
  


( _is this place safe_ , naruto asks him in his dreams, his form something blurry and intangible. _is your own home what you consider safe?_

_yes_ , he replies. _it lacks you._

_can you breathe in it?_

sasuke stares, all over the image of him that keeps shifting, young and old, bloody and healed. can feel his touch all over like phantoms. 

he shakes his head negatively: _it lacks you._

_will you be happy?_

and he's eleven at the last word, bandaids on his knees and the bridge of his nose, his hair dirty, a tooth missing, paint all over his clothes.

_i will lack you._ )

  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  
  


"she really loves you."

"yes," naruto's face twitches into something for a moment before it fades, and he laughs a light and quiet thing. "she does."

sasuke watches him twist the ring around on his finger, wonders if it burns. 

_how are you bearing this?_ he nearly asks. _do your shoulders ache like mine, my love?_

"and the village loves you," he says, because it's true. they go out sometimes in the mornings, naruto landing in front of sasuke's window. sasuke asking: _the hokage giving you the day off?_ and naruto's lips curling, teeth flashing, saying: _sakura-chan is well aware of the way i spend my mornings, sasuke._ and they walk through the streets and naruto's eyes are everywhere and sasuke's are on one place, on blond hair and dark lashes. they can never go far without someone asking for a picture, for his name in a book. and naruto would grip sasuke's sweater, hold him by the small of his back. like he needs an anchor. or like if his attention is elsewhere for even a moment, sasuke may disappear. 

he will. he's going to soon. it's been years since the war. he should be gone by now. but he'd cleaned the dust from his rooms after that night, when his thighs had been around naruto's waist, fireflies making them into constellations. 

his hands had moved on their own. 

but a month later his fingers had glanced over naruto's as they walked, the morning gray and sickening. and something there was cold, _cold_ , and hard to the touch. 

  
  


( _hinata and i, we_ —

_congratulations._ )

  
  


and he had meant it. does mean it.

he should be gone by now. maybe it would have been easier if they had been a nation apart, if he had received a letter with their names beside each other, rather than his hand ghosting over naruto's, feeling against his own skin what he is not allowed, sasuke's ugly desires melted down and hardened.

maybe he'll slip away one night, hold himself together to keep from automatically ending up in naruto's window. for he'd find it empty now, anyways. it's no longer where he sleeps. he no longer sleeps alone.

and the way naruto looks now is not the way he should, his mouth turned down, twitching in the corners like it keeps trying to do what it can't.

"are you happy?" sasuke asks, because he wants to know. but it's not the time. there are so many people around them, soft light and flowers all over the ground, trampled on, turning into things that are ugly and wilting.

naruto looks at him in that way he did when they were thirteen, when sasuke was trying to run from him, sever something that had begun to grow and twist around his insides, a betrayed and forgiving kind of stare. 

_but it is not me who is leaving this time_ , sasuke wants to say. _you can't blame me for this._

"i am trying to be," naruto replies, and sasuke wants to ask why he's talking so quietly, like they aren't where they are, like what's happened hasn't happened. maybe like it's the evening and he's showing up at sasuke's door with miso and rice and soju and unsaid things laid out for them to share.

_you're the first_ , naruto had said. first (and second) kiss, first time i've made something for someone other than myself, first—

he doesn't finish it. 

what is love but a dream where there's a knife to his lover's throat. what is love but when he wakes with it to his own. what is love when he is in love alone.

besides, it is something where that word does not suffice. it could never be enough. it would be easier if it were enough.

"sasuke, listen to me. i want you to understand something—"

"don't i understand everything?"

it's so bright outside, and it's not how they normally exist, all their movements embraced by the moon and the stars, accepted by the night. there's laughing somewhere near them, everything so loud for a moment, and it feels so wrong, the simplest sounds making sasuke's skin crawl.

  
  


( _can't we go somewhere quiet, can we put flowers in our hair like we forgot to when we were young. swim and try to drown each other, finding air in each other's mouths._ )

  
  


"you don't, no."

sasuke looks away, digs his nails into his wrist, sees long black hair and purple-gray eyes, comfortable like clouds. sees eyes that are much softer than his own.

  
  


( _i am not so free from my burdens, we will not die together. you can't bear this one for me. i was always bound to die alone, the last of my kind._

_don't blame me, don't hate me for leaving. don't chase me this time. there'd be no reason for me to return to you. it's not me you want. there is no way of having you._ ) 

  
  


in his mind he sees sheets that embrace like the ocean waves, his lips tasting the way naruto's body curves under him. and the flowers around them aren't like the ones on the ground. the petals are forever, they never wilt. naruto asking for things he never has: _kiss me, mean it this time_ . sasuke replying: _i meant them all, i'll mean them all for as long as you will let me_ . they exist in a room and it's always nighttime and there's always tea brewing and naruto slices tomatoes thin, _thin_ for him.

  
  


( _did you make it, my dear? do you have all you want, what you desired all along? am i ill for wanting you to want me to be a part of it?_

_tell me i'm sick and i'll love you for it._

_will you bandage my side once again? these wounds_ — _they keep opening back up. you keep digging your fingers into them. i keep letting you._

_i'll kiss your knuckles when they bleed if you promise to drive them into me once again._ )

  
  


and naruto's eyes are not just the ocean anymore, not just a wide expanse that the sun sits jagged over. they are something sasuke can drown in, let himself sink into, fill up his lungs and keep going until his pulse slows and ends.

he's going to leave, he's already half-gone. it no longer matters, the way their souls intertwine. 

he loves him still, and still he is alone.

  
  


( _i bled for you. it will be this way forever._ )

  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  
  


"you've got flowers—"

naruto's fingers come up near sasuke's face and pull a cherry blossom from the black strands that have gotten long, like his brother's had been. he tucks the lock behind sasuke's ear before pulling away, a soft upturn to his lips.

"thank you," sasuke mutters and naruto hums in reply. his hair looks like his father's, but his face is still soft like his mother's, dark lashes lining the pretty blue color of his eyes. sasuke has the urge to feel the careful dip of the scars on his cheeks; holds his wrist still.

it's quiet for a while, the comfortable kind. the wind takes possession of them, has its way with the long drape of sasuke's black robes and the softness of their hair, golden and dark.

sasuke's palm aches.

"the kids?" he asks, the words falling limp off his tongue. his hand grips the rail of the bridge hard, knuckles going white. naruto sighs a laugh, and sasuke lets his hold loosen at the sound.

"they're doing well, thank you. told me to ask you when you'd visit them again."

sasuke nods, smiles and means it.

"and your other kids?"

naruto makes the sound again, and all of him is so bright, each bit of laughter sounding like the sun translated to noise.

"also doing well. we're learning substitution jutsu."

and sasuke likes the way he says _we_ , as if he's still learning, as if he couldn't do these things blind, or asleep, maybe. 

"i like it when you're here, sasuke," naruto says, a soft sound, and he looks at him and doesn't look away. there's a strange twist to his mouth and sasuke stares.

"what."

naruto bites back his smile, shakes his head. he shifts closer.

"flowers keep getting in your hair." 

sasuke goes to run his fingers through it, but naruto's hand wraps around his wrist, a gentle touch that burns.

"don't. they look— it's... pretty."

their hands fall, leave each other. and for a moment sasuke envisions them younger, holding each other's first two fingers in the sign of unison, and in something else nameless and untold. they both grip the bridge, but sasuke still feels unstable.

"i nearly died once on a bridge like this," sasuke comments, resting his elbow on the rail. and the sky is a blend of purple and yellow, dim at the same time, not so bright that sasuke's eyes strain. he can see well, the well naruto moves, the way he pulls the weathered ring off and back on, some kind of habit sasuke has never understood. he wonders if it bothers him. wonders if he feels anything more with it on than with it off.

"i nearly lost you once on a bridge like this," naruto replies, soft. there's a smile in his tone but it doesn't translate to his lips. his nails scratch against the wood, and sasuke can sense the unease, like trembling white noise, his skin sensitive with it. he counts to ten, and damns himself, reaches out with two fingers and touches the back of naruto's hand, waits until he is still under the contact before removing them.

and naruto seems to breathe for the first time, blue eyes saccharine. sasuke watches him rest his other hand over where his had touched, thumb moving along the curve of his own bones.

"can i tell you something, sasuke?" he seems to whisper, almost too quiet in the wind, eyes wild and piercing. if they're alike to anything, it's a knife in sasuke's dreams, it's fireflies, a warm meal, tomatoes cut thin. it's these things, and the way naruto's voice softens with sasuke's name in his mouth. it's that this has not changed, in all the years they have known each other.

"when have you ever asked for my permission?" sasuke laughs, discomfort tight around his throat, ropes crafted long ago leaving bruises in his skin, saying things quietly or not at all, rather than letting his throat flex with them unabashedly.

"i'm asking myself for my own, too." his eyes glare into the river beneath them. the sun is setting, moon in slivers in the water, stars like small sparks. they ricochet off each other when the waves come. and naruto was right — sasuke can feel the blossoms glance against his skin when the wind blows his hair into his face, get caught in his lashes. the petals feel like forever, the way the pink blooms. they aren't. they will wilt, like the ones that flowered inside him long ago.

  
  


( _how have you been, bearing all of this_ , he thinks, opens his hands so his palms are bare, love-lines and all. _what was i ever meant to do with all of this?_ )

  
  


he breathes. "okay—"

and then naruto speaks, the wind taking hold of the words. but it doesn't matter. sasuke heard them anyway. it's strange, maybe. they should have said these things by now. ( _you're my best friend, i love_ —) but they never did, and they're something rigid when they settle inside sasuke's mind. he's heard them in dreams, and what follows he could never say aloud: his soft sighs and softer smile, the way he sounds with sasuke's mouth on him. he's heard them as he's come undone, body shaking and numb again.

this, of course, is in the room where it's always nighttime, where they are enveloped and embraced endlessly by things cosmic.

it is, of course, not here.

"you shouldn't say meaningless things," sasuke whispers, his eyes on the way the paint peels beneath their hands.

  
  


( _have you felt every night that i have had terrors, do you still sleep when i don't? are our bodies as tethered as they once were? can you really love me if you don't love me?_ )

  
  


he sees them young, hungry for things only they understood, but did not allow themselves. sees himself kneeling over naruto's body, wondering what the rain is trying to say when it falls. he sees them older, naruto chasing after him like he was something to be valued, something that should be held. he sees them in their wounds, in their healing, too. sees himself hopeful. sees himself foolish, a child still.

  
  


( _it's nighttime again, dear, and the moon is drowning in the river. tell me what you want to say now and i'll keep it in an envelope, tuck it away inside my ribs. tell me before i leave first, as the story goes._ )

  
  


and he does, and it's the end. the beginning was lost long ago:

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


("it wasn't meaningless, sasuke.")

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


_"the weight, the weight we carry is love."_

_— allen ginsberg_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: lovesongofsaintsebastian


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